


the fine art of falling apart

by LadyMerlin



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Blow Jobs, Come Shot, Consensual Kink, Deepthroating, Dominance, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Hair-pulling, Idiots in Love, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, M/M, Post-Canon, Power Play, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:54:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23262781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMerlin/pseuds/LadyMerlin
Summary: Ed’s shirt is hanging half off his shoulders and he snarls at Roy, but instead of threatening, it just makes him look feral and debauched, with bright red lipstick smeared across his mouth and his lips swollen from biting. He shakes his head lightly and his hair falls apart, bobby pins sliding out and skittering across the tile of the entryway to their house. Something vicious inside Roy shivers at how easy it is, like Ed’s been on the brink of this disarray all evening, just like Roy himself.
Relationships: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Comments: 19
Kudos: 245





	the fine art of falling apart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mellomailbox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mellomailbox/gifts).



> Mellomailbox did [this art](https://twitter.com/birthdaytoast1/status/1240848477082583041) for me, and then I just _had_ to write the fic. One good turn deserves another. I hope you like this filth. Sorry I kinda went ham on the commas and long sentences in this one...
> 
> Warning: Please heed the tags on this one. While the sex is explicitly consensual, it's definitely not gentle or tender. This is messier and filthier and just rougher than what I usually write, and there were definitely moments when I couldn't tell if what I was writing was okay. I've re-written this so many times that there _may_ also be weird disconnected bits where I lost the plot, but just let me know if you catch anything - I'll be happy to fix it. Shout-out to [Ang3lba3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ang3lba3/pseuds/ang3lba3/works) for that chignon! Messing it up was the easiest part of writing this thing. Shout-out also to [teandfailure](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teandfailure/pseuds/teandfailure/works) for the last minute beta; I owe you one babe. 
> 
> All remaining mistakes are my own.

They’re kissing the moment Roy closes the front door, but it's not a nice kiss. 

Roy shoves Ed back against the door and their mouths meet with crushing force. Roy sinks his teeth into Ed’s lower lip and starts unbuttoning Ed’s shirt, and doesn’t let go until Ed’s mouth goes tender like a bruised fruit, melting into the kiss. He can taste the waxiness of lipstick on Ed’s mouth; clearly another tactic designed to drive him wild. 

Well, now Ed can’t say he doesn’t deserve what’s coming. 

The elegant chignon at the back of Ed’s head starts coming undone when Roy deepens the kiss, sliding his hands up the back of Ed’s neck and tilting his head until it hits the door. Ed hisses in pain, shoving Roy away with hands planted on his shoulders, and Roy takes the opportunity to loosen his tie and start unbuttoning his own shirt. They both know where this is going. 

Ed’s shirt is hanging half off his shoulders and he snarls at Roy, but instead of threatening, it just makes him look feral and debauched, with bright red lipstick smeared across his mouth and his lips swollen from biting. He shakes his head lightly and his hair falls apart, bobby pins sliding out and skittering across the tile of the entryway to their house. Something vicious inside Roy shivers at how easy it is, like Ed’s been on the brink of this disarray all evening, just like Roy himself. 

Ed yanks his shirt off, buttons popping and flying in all directions before he drops it on the ground. 

He ties his hair back into a loose ponytail with the elastic that’s always around his wrist and doesn’t break eye-contact with Roy for even a second, as if he’s warning Roy to stay back, to wait.

That’s alright. Roy can be patient. He demonstrated it perfectly when Ed turned up at the gala uninvited earlier that night. He _could_ have been invited, but he’d told Roy that he had to work. Otherwise Roy would have made it happen. 

Ed had spent the entire evening flitting around like some sort of demented butterfly (or maybe a wasp, with stings aplenty), his hair in an elegant updo, lips perfectly painted into a scarlet smirk, and little paste jewels glittering at the corners of his eyes, drawing attention to his golden irises and making it look like he was glowing from the inside: a source of light. 

It made Roy want to set things on fire. 

Instead of resorting to arson, he’d waited. He’d watched Ed make the rounds, not exactly being social but perhaps some approximation of it. He’d watched people watching Ed, assessing eyes flickering between Ed and Roy himself, judging the situation. His own reactions gave him away, but that was probably what Ed had wanted, the little painted wretch. 

So he’d done some damage control while waiting, stoked the fire in his gut patiently, and at the end of the night he’d let everyone see him leading Ed out of the room; their proud Führer with his proprietary hand on the small of Ed’s back. 

The drive back to their home had felt both interminably long and fleetingly quick at the same time. Ed had spent the entirety of it watching Roy’s reflection in the window, tension building in the silence like flood waters behind a dam. 

Now, standing there in front of Ed, it feels like the dam has finally burst; Roy is ready to _move._

There’s still a beat of anger pulsing in the back of Roy’s head, but desire is a strong competitor for his attention. Roy steps forward again and slides the elastic from Ed’s hair. His hair spills everywhere like golden flax, or like solid rays of sunshine, gleaming even in the low light.

Ed clicks his tongue in exasperation and scowls at Roy. Defiance is Roy’s favourite expression on Ed’s face. He wouldn’t know what to do with an Ed who wasn’t challenging. Ed wants his hair out of his face, but Roy wants something to hold on to. They both know who’ll win this fight. He tosses the elastic aside.

“Down,” Roy says, and it’s the first thing he’s said since he politely asked if Ed was ready to leave the party. 

Ed crosses his arms and tosses his head; a wordless refusal and a challenge. Roy doesn’t mind it. He wouldn’t be Ed if he made things easy. He cups Ed’s jaw like he’s going to kiss him, hands on either side of his face. Ed leans in, falling for the ruse. 

They’re standing so close that their thighs are almost interlocked. He’ll only get one chance, so Roy doesn’t hesitate. In the space between breaths he jerks his thigh sideways and up, directly hitting the inside of Ed’s automail knee and forcing him off-balance. He can see the absolute shock in Ed’s eyes. 

Roy pushes him with a hand on his shoulder and Ed goes _down_ , landing on his knees. 

“Ouch, _fuck,_ ” Ed swears, but makes no move to get up. Roy never ceases to be stunned by how beautiful Ed is, but there’s something about the sight of him on his knees in front of Roy that’s really - really something else. 

Roy strokes Ed’s hair gently, combing it out of his face with his fingers and gathering it at the back of his head, where he clenches it in a fist without any warning. Ed lets out a tiny sound when Roy yanks his head backwards and forces him to look up at Roy. His face is expressionless, but he licks his lips and nods slightly. 

Ed wants this, too. 

“Did you stop to think how it would look?” Roy asks, relaxing into the stance, voice low and dangerous. “For everyone to see you, and how you affect me? Reputation aside, did you even think about how you’re giving away my one weakness?”

Ed bares his teeth in a snarl, because he couldn’t be submissive to save his life. “I’m not a _weakness,_ ” he spits, which is fair. Ed is many things, but he’s not weak. But he _is_ Roy’s soft spot. There’s almost nothing Roy wouldn’t do, for Ed, and now everyone knows it. “Besides, if you’re so worried about giving things away, maybe you should quit staring at my ass in public. It’s not like people don’t already know about this, about _us._ ” 

It’s a thought that haunts Roy; of what would happen if someone decided to get to him through Ed. It doesn’t bear thinking about. He wants to trust that Ed can take care of himself, but - but he worries all the same. 

“You’re the love of my life,” Roy says simply, unbuttoning the front of his trousers with one hand, so he doesn’t have to let go of Ed’s hair, keeping him close. He wants Ed to see the fear in his eyes, to not look away from the uncomfortable emotion. “If you die before me,” he says, pulling down his fly, “I won’t last much longer.” 

This is not the typical position for a romantic declaration, but nothing about Ed is typical, and Roy doesn’t see why this should be any different. It’s rare for Roy to get a chance to tell Ed about _his_ feelings. He’s going to take it however he gets it, before his bad luck kicks in, 

Ed snarls at him, which isn’t traditionally a sign of affection, though it’s fairly usual for him. “Shut the fuck up, Mustang,” he hisses, trying to avert his eyes. Roy doesn’t let him, tightening his grip at the back of Ed’s head. 

“No, Edward,” Roy says, almost a growl. “ _You_ shut up.” 

The words fall out almost like Roy scripted them, and he knows Ed can see it too. “Make me,” he says, and if Roy hadn’t been holding onto him he can visualise Ed jerking his head in challenge. 

Roy pulls his dick out of his pants with his free hand. He’s been half-hard for hours now, since Ed first turned up at the gala. Ed’s eyes hone in on Roy’s dick and Roy sees his attention snap into place, his gaze sharpening as he licks his lips. Roy strokes himself casually, letting the rough calluses on his hands drag him back down, grounding him in slight discomfort. 

Ed looks smaller like this, more delicate than he is, but it doesn’t change the intensity with which Roy wants him, a hunger that’s almost physical. Roy tilts Ed’s head back so they can make eye contact; a silent question. Ed swallows and nods again. That’s enough for Roy. 

He tightens his grip on the back of Ed’s head and raises his cock until it’s just touching Ed’s lips. A smudge of lipstick stains the head of his dick and Ed’s lips part almost automatically, but Roy doesn’t give him what he clearly wants. Forgiveness is not going to be so easy. 

His dick leaves a damp trail where it touches Ed’s mouth and Ed’s tongue flickers out to taste it. Roy yanks Ed’s head back and another tiny noise escapes his throat. “Open,” Roy commands, not bothering with full sentences. 

Ed’s jaw drops open and Roy guides his cock into Ed’s mouth. He stops briefly to rest it on the flat of Ed’s tongue, and then lets go of himself to stroke Ed’s cheek, to tuck a lock of stray hair behind his ear. Ed’s skin is downy soft under his fingertips and he traces circles lightly with his fingertips, gazing down at Ed. Ed's expression is still defiant, but his eyes are glazing over slightly, like he's sinking into another place, somewhere deep inside his head. 

“Mind your teeth,” Roy warns. Ed doesn’t acknowledge the command, but tucks his teeth behind his lips. Roy is leaking and he can feel Ed’s mouth getting wet from his own emissions. Ed doesn’t swallow and the mess starts trickling out of his mouth, a mix of pre-come and spit. Roy hasn’t even done anything yet, and Ed already looks ruined. 

“You’re starving for this, aren’t you?” Roy croons, stroking a thumb against Ed’s cheekbone. Ed doesn’t shake his head or deny it, just closes his eyes and accepts the weight of Roy’s words, the weight of his dick in Ed’s mouth. 

“Be a good boy, then,” Roy says, patting his cheek gently. “You’re good at this. Go ahead and suck my dick, Edward,” he commands, and Ed - Ed does. He does it. 

He sucks on the head of Roy’s cock with his eyes squeezed shut, unable to bob his head because of Roy’s fist in his hair, holding him back. The room is silent except for the sounds of breathing, and the sounds from Ed’s mouth as he tries to get a good angle to impale himself on Roy’s dick, but Roy still doesn’t let him move. Not yet. Ed whines in protest of the restraints, but Roy isn’t planning to deprive him for too long. 

He lets Ed suck on him until his cock is soaking wet and Ed is moaning around him, the sounds from Ed's mouth getting wetter and dirtier as the moments pass. He pats Ed’s cheek to get his attention and knows he has it when Ed stops and looks up at him through unfairly long eyelashes. 

“You remember our code, sweetheart. Tap my thigh if you want me to stop.” Roy loves this, but only as long as Ed’s having fun. Ed nods as much as he can with his mouth full of Roy’s cock, and taps Roy’s thigh in acknowledgment. 

Roy pulls out of Ed’s mouth, holding him in place to keep him from following, until the head of his cock is just beyond the reach of Ed’s lips. A string of slick hangs out of his mouth and it’s - it should be _disgusting._

It’s not. It is the furthest possible thing in the _world_ from disgusting. Fiery lust bubbles up in his chest. Ed tries to wipe his mouth with the back of a hand. Roy lets him, because it won’t matter in a while, anyway. 

He strokes himself, watching Ed’s eyes track as he gets harder and harder. “What do you want, Edward?” he asks lightly, holding his cock at the base and tapping it lightly against the side of Ed’s face. Ed’s eyes slip shut and he shudders. “No, keep your eyes open. Look at me.” 

Ed’s eyes snap open, and he looks like he wants to be angry but the emotion just isn’t within his reach anymore. Instead he looks helpless with wanting, pupils blown wide, breathing heavily. 

Roy sighs lightly and adjusts himself until Ed’s lips are pressed against the base of his dick, breathing him in. The head of his cock is pressed against Ed's ear and there's a trail of slick on Edward’s golden skin along his cheekbone. He can’t feel it, but he sees Ed press a tiny kiss against his skin, followed by a kitten lick which he _does_ feel. He knows what Ed is asking for, but - “I need to hear the words, sweetheart. What do you want from me?” 

Ed says something so softly that Roy can’t hear, pressing the words into the skin at the base of Roy’s dick, something he only registers as a vibration. “A little bit louder, love, I didn’t catch that.” 

“Fuck my mouth,” Ed says, through gritted teeth, just loud enough to be heard.

“Hm?” Roy asks again, knowing that it’s going to infuriate Ed, tightening his grip in the back of Ed’s hair; a warning. 

“I said, _fuck my mouth,_ ” Ed spits, loud enough that his voice echoes slightly in the empty hallway. “ _Bastard_ ,” he swears, fingers digging into Roy’s thigh in frustration. 

“Ah, I see,” Roy says, pulling his hips back so that his cock is just brushing against Ed’s mouth again, the head smearing wetly against his lips. “And why should I do that?” 

“I _hate_ you,” Ed swears, his face flushing hot with embarrassment, but there’s nothing to be embarrassed about — Roy has never seen anything so beautiful. “I hate you _so much,_ why do you have to keep talking?” Ed says, voice getting pitchier with frustration, and god, Roy is so _lucky_ that he gets to do this, see this, to exist so close to a star on the verge of nuclear collapse. “Just fucking _fuck my mouth_ ,” Ed snarls, baring his teeth, “just do it, _please_ ,” he says, “I _need it Roy,_ you _bastard,_ would you just please—” 

Ed descends into begging, which is exactly what Roy had wanted, but now there’s nothing in Roy which is capable of denying what _Ed_ wants. Not when he’s flushed red with desire and rage, the absolute picture of temptation. 

“Oh love,” Roy interrupts, voice coming from somewhere deep in his belly, low and hungry, “you only had to ask _nicely_.” He doesn’t give Ed a chance to reply, sliding the fat head of his dick between Ed’s painted lips, holding him still as he pushes in. Roy doesn’t stop half-way this time, but keeps going until he hits the back of Ed’s throat. 

He doesn’t back up even when Ed chokes and his throat convulses around Roy's cock as he tries to swallow, tight and hot and _wet._ “Breathe through your nose, Ed,” Roy says, but doesn’t draw back; Ed hasn’t asked him to stop yet. 

Ed sputters for a second before he listens, taking a deep breath through his nose, still swallowing reflexively around Roy’s cock. It feels _incredible_. Roy pats his cheek soothingly. “Good boy,” he praises Ed before renewing his grip on the back of his head, with both hands this time. “Remember, I’ll stop if you tap my thigh.” 

When Roy starts to fuck his mouth, Ed takes it like it's something he was _born_ to do. 

Roy sees the exact moment Ed figures out how to breathe through his nose and starts moving faster, thrusting deeper until Ed's mouth is full, lips stretched almost obscenely around the girth of Roy's cock. Sticky fluids leave glistening trails on Ed's chin and his eyes are brimming with tears that perch there for long seconds, glittering like diamonds before they drip down his cheeks. He looks like a living work of art.

“God,” Roy swears, just loud enough to be heard over the sounds of fucking, “you were meant for this, just _look_ at you darling.” Ed keens, like the words are too much for him to bear.

Roy is panting from exertion but it's not enough to make him stop, not when it feels like every thrust is stoking the fire in his gut, like there's a bomb about to go off in his stomach, the base of his spine. His cock is throbbing in time with his pulse and he knows he doesn’t have much time left before he comes. There's just one more thing... 

On the next thrust, he stops. He's pressed so deep into Ed’s mouth that Ed's lips might leave a ring of lipstick around the base of his cock, if there’s any left on his mouth. Roy wants to wrap his hand around Ed's neck to see if he can feel himself inside it, but he doesn't want to let go of his perfect grip on Ed's hair. Ed sucks in a breath through his nose and Roy holds his face still, rolling his hips gently, fucking Ed's mouth as deeply as he can without pulling out.

Ed takes it _beautifully,_ his nose pressed against Roy’s pubis, silent tears streaming from his eyes. He doesn't make a single sound of protest, and his hands are squeezing Roy’s thighs like his grip is the only thing keeping him there. When he swallows hard around Roy's cock, it's what finally tips Roy over the edge. 

He pulls back just in time to come on Ed’s face, sticky fluid splashing across his forehead and dripping down his nose and cheeks. It’s breathtaking and Roy strokes himself until every last drop has landed on Ed’s face, gleaming with movement as he takes deep, rasping breaths. 

They're both panting like they've just run a marathon, and Roy can feel Ed's unsteady breaths against his bare skin. His eyelashes are sticking to his cheeks, so Roy gently wipes his eyelids with his fingers, getting the worst of it off. Ed’s still sticky, but less likely to go blind if he opens his eyes. Roy’s heart is thundering in his ears but he can’t look away from Ed, not for the split second it would take to do something more useful. 

When Ed finally looks up at Roy, his pupils are blown and dark, dazed. Roy is helpless against the urge to bend down and kiss him, careful not to disturb the mess on his face. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?” he asks, pressing the words into Ed’s mouth and stroking the top of his head, unsure if Ed even understands what he’s saying. “Just stunning, god _look_ at you. I wonder what all those people would say if they could see you like this.” Ed shivers, though Roy can’t tell if it’s because he likes the thought or because he’s cold. 

He rubs Ed’s shoulders and his eyes flutter shut as his face turns up towards Roy, lips parted like he’s waiting for holy sacrament to be placed on his tongue. Roy stands back up and drags two fingers through the filth on Ed’s face before sliding them into Ed’s mouth, wiping them against the flat of Ed’s tongue. 

“You can get yourself off now, sweetheart,” Roy says when Ed starts sucking on them, licking Roy’s come from the webbing between his fingers like he’s starving for it.

From his position Roy can’t see, but he can hear it, the sound of Ed undoing the front of his pants, the slick-slide of Ed’s right hand against his own cock while his left is braced against Roy’s thigh, his lips wrapped around Roy’s fingers. Roy strokes Ed’s hair, and even that’s a little sticky from bodily fluids and sweat, curling where it’s damp in his scalp and at the ends, sticking to Ed’s bare shoulders and neck. 

Roy pats him gently, combing his fingers through Ed’s hair while listening to the sounds of Ed stroking his own cock, still kneeling on the ground in front of him, covered in Roy’s come. 

“You’re a mess, aren’t you sweetheart?” he asks, not expecting an answer. Ed whines and if Roy’s fingers weren’t in his mouth, Roy knows he’d be gritting his teeth. “Hold on, love,” he says, pulling his fingers back, scraping the pads of his fingertips against Ed’s teeth. Ed whines again, more desperately, until Roy wipes his fingers through the mess on Ed’s cheeks and pushes them back into his mouth, gently fucking Ed’s mouth with his fingers.

He’s going to find this absolutely disgusting when he looks back on it, but for now, the way Ed is sucking Roy’s come off his fingers is nothing short of incendiary. He can feel Ed’s entire body shaking, pressed against his leg, his right hand moving faster and faster as he makes tiny helpless noises in his throat, like he’s on the verge of too much, but it’s not yet enough. It’s the perfect opportunity to give Ed a hand. 

Roy catches as much of Ed’s hair in his hand as he can without making it even dirtier and yanks it _hard_ , enough that it probably hurts. 

Ed comes like an explosion, gasping like the air has been punched straight out of his chest, his mouth dropping open in shock, face pressed against Roy’s hip. He can feel Ed’s come splashing against the leg of his trousers and _everything_ is going to have to be washed, but he can’t bring himself to regret it. 

Roy lets Ed come down like that, stroking his hair until he stops shaking, before finally stepping back. Ed sways slightly but doesn’t stand up, and Roy realises it’s because his knees aren’t going to hold him. 

Roy bends and hooks his elbows under Ed’s arms to haul him up, propping Ed against his own body when he staggers. His arms go around Ed’s waist to catch him, hands pressing against the small of his back to keep him upright, and Ed shivers, unprotesting. 

Roy can’t help but think again that Ed’s face is a masterpiece, come splashed across it like paint on a canvas, tracks of clean skin where Roy had dragged his fingers through it, his lips swollen and cracked, hair an absolute mess. The jewels glued to the corners of Ed’s eyes have long been dislodged, replaced with just smudges of dark eyeliner. If Roy had it his way, he'd keep Ed like this forever. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, darling,” Roy says, opting to take advantage of Ed’s unusual pliability while it lasts. Ed nods silently. 

Roy soaks a towel in the kitchen sink with Ed still leaning against him. “Close your eyes,” he says, gently wiping Ed’s eyelids with the clean towel before moving on to the rest of his face. Come is already beginning to dry in Ed’s hair, but a towel isn’t going to do anything for that; they’re both going to need a shower. 

Roy fills a glass with cold water and makes Ed drink the whole thing before pressing a light kiss against his lips. Ed kisses back, and Roy can taste himself on Ed’s tongue, sour and salty and bitter. He hums and deepens the kiss, reveling in the knowledge that Ed probably smells like him too, now. 

“Can you speak?” he asks, moments later, curious. 

Ed clears his throat and opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He shakes his head. Roy smiles ruefully and squeezes Ed’s shoulder. “Sorry, love.” Ed shrugs and shakes his head, rejecting the apology, and _that_ makes Roy grin. “I’m not sorry enough to regret it, don't worry. Though I figure you’ll feel differently if your hair actually does dry like this.” Ed eyes him narrowly, his usual spark coming back into his face. Ed stretches his neck sideways, joints popping in a way that always makes Roy wince. 

“Bath or shower?” he asks, keeping an arm around Ed’s waist and letting him lean his weight against Roy. 

“Bed,” Ed whispers. 

“Shower it is,” Roy continues, as if Ed hadn’t spoken. “You’ll probably feel a lot better once you’re clean and all the makeup is off your face.” 

“I’m not filthy because of _makeup_ ,” Ed rasps, and then coughs when speaking proves to be too much for his throat. 

Roy tries a wink, and then laughs in defeat when Ed glares at him. “I'll get you some hot honey lemon once you're out of the shower. You were gorgeous, though,” he adds truthfully. 

“What, on my knees?” Ed asks, not bothering to raise his voice. 

“Well, yes, but I meant - at the ball today. You were the most beautiful person there. Even though I wished you hadn’t come, you were stunning. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you.” 

“Damn, Roy,” Ed laughs, more an exhale of air than an actual sound. “You don’t have to flatter me. I’m pretty much a sure thing.” He ducks his head like he’s embarrassed, like Roy hadn’t just come on his face not fifteen minutes before. 

Roy waits until they’re standing outside the master bathroom on the second floor before he responds. “It’s not flattery if it’s true, love.” He presses a kiss against Ed’s cheek and steps quickly into the bathroom to start the water - it takes a minute to get properly hot - and tries not to grin when he hears Ed outside -

“Love you too, bastard.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Monday! I hope everyone - whether you’re working from home or still heading out - has a good day!


End file.
